


Unspoken

by obscureshipyard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Brock, Desk Sex, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Exhibitionism, HYDRA Husbands, Implied Consent, Jack being Jack, Kinda, M/M, Office Sex, Power Imbalance, Shameless Smut, Top Jack, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, beacuse I can't not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureshipyard/pseuds/obscureshipyard
Summary: Jack returns from a mission and Brock is being a complete terror to the entire building. Seems like Brock needs some punishment, and Jack is just the man for the job.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to mittagsfrau for encouragement
> 
> And TemptedForTea for beta reading and editing!

The air was tense, Jack noticed it the second he walked into Triskelion. Every member of Alpha STRIKE team was on edge. For a group of elite soldiers, that was saying something.

After his month-long mission away, Jack was too tired to jump directly into whatever was going on. Instead, avoided any chatty teammates and made his way to Brock's office. He was expected to debrief his commander regardless. It was just a bonus that there was nowhere Jack would rather be after a mission than with Brock.

Well, maybe in bed with Brock. Jack was sure he could make that happen very quickly.

The closer he got to the office the quieter it became. There was a curious lack of anyone in the cubicles directly surrounding Brock’s office. Jack took it as the poor sign it was as he entered.

"Great, you're finally back. Did you finish writing all your reports up?" Brock barked as soon as Jack stepped through the threshold. He was taken aback but recovered quickly.

"Finished them on the plane." Looking Brock over, Jack could read the stress holding his body rigid. Lines were etched in deep along his forehead. "Something going on I need to be read into?"

"None of your fucking business, Rollins. Forget it." Brock sneered. He turned his attention back to his computer screen but didn’t dismiss him.

Jack closed the door to the office, the clear glass walls would only afford them so much privacy, but it was better than nothing.

"Tell me what's wrong." Jack kept his voice level. He walked to the side of the desk, not crossing over into Brock’s space but clearly showing his intention for this to be a nonprofessional conversation.

“If you want to know maybe you should have reached out during your mission--”

“We were under orders for strict radio silence. No exceptions.” Jack’s blood pressure was starting to rise. Brock knew the orders he was under. Something was going on and Brock was being tight lipped about it, that never boded well.

“Fine. We’re done here. I’ve still got work to do.” It was likely as close to an official dismissal Jack was going to get. But he was not going to let this end. He realized the tension in the office, hell the building, was all coming from this very man currently trying to give him the brush off.

“Work to do? Is that why you’re acting like a fucking brat?” Jack stepped around the desk to stand directly next to Brock. He enjoyed the slight shock on Brock’s face at his words.

“Watch your goddamn mouth with how you speak to me, Rollins.” Brock spat back, but didn’t duck when Jack snaked a hand out to squeeze around Brock’s throat.

“You’re going to tell me what’s wrong...” Jack increased the pressure of his grip, just enough to partially constrict the airflow in Brock’s windpipe. Brock was deadly still and glaring at Jack. Oh, Jack liked a challenge. “ _After._ ” He promised.

Jack struck quickly. He had Brock out of his chair and pinned down to the desk, bent at the hips. Brock struggled, but it just made it easier for Jack to catch his wrists and pin them behind his back. Pleased he hadn’t changed out of his mission gear; Jack pulled a zip tie free and bound Brock’s hands behind his back.

“Fucking _bastard._ ” Brock growled, shoving his shoulders back to push Jack away, but his attempt was feeble. Jack kicked Brock’s legs apart. Put him at an awkward angle that gave Jack the upper hand.

Jack leaned over and pressed a well memorized code on the keypad embedded within Brock’s desk. The clear walls of the office suddenly went opaque.

“No one can see us. But you still gotta be quiet. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you moaning like a whore and come to investigate, now would we?” Jack spoke with hot breath right into Brock’s ear. "I’m gonna fuck this bad mood out of you. You’re going to be a good boy and take it.” Jack knew the words would set Brock off. As predicted, Brock thrust back against him hard, turned his head to take a bite at Jack’s face.

Jack pulled back, grabbing the back of Brock’s neck and shoving him down against the desk, hard. He chuckled darkly but kept Brock pressed flat with a stiff arm as his other hand worked to undo each of their belts. He left his own pants hanging open around his waist, but pulled Brock’s down to his knees, further hobbling him.

“Already hard, you really are a slut for this aren’t you?” Jack reached around to give a teasing tug to Brock’s flush cock. He was hard as a rock and leaking. A guttural groan forced its way out of Brock as Jack continued to tease him, just stroking lightly, never taking hold.

“Quit talking and _fuck me._ ” Brock snapped back. He had his forehead pressed against the desk and his eyes squeezed shut, but Jack could hear him clearly. Every note of desperation came through clear, as well.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands, Commander.” Jack reminded, as his hand left Brock’s shaft and drifted back to give a gentle tug at his sack. The responding whimper and bucking hips brought a wicked smile to Jack’s face.

Jack moved his hand away, circling it around Brock’s shapely thigh to his exposed hole. The little pucker twitched when Jack dragged the flat of his thumb over the tight skin. Brock shuddered beneath him but didn’t say a word.

Jack debated just taking himself in hand and blowing his load all over Brock’s back. He could wait out Brock’s petulance, watch him squirm on the desk unsatisfied until he was begging. But he decided against it. Hunger pulled at Jack to fuck Brock into submission. He wouldn’t get off unless it was deep inside Brock.

“Lube?” Jack opened two of the top drawers but saw nothing resembling what he needed. They had sex in Brock’s office before, he knew it was hidden somewhere. Looking down, Brock wore an obstinate glare and remained silent.

“Where is it, Brock? I’m not doing you without prep, though you fucking deserve it.” Jack laid down three harsh smacks to the curve of Brock’s ass. Only a small mewl escaped Brock’s lips but no answer. The blush on Brock’s tan skin was so pretty Jack couldn’t hold back.

He spanked that pert ass again, harder, right where thigh met rounded cheek. His own cock was begging for relief but neither man would budge. Jack counted it out, five more smacks before he got so much as a grunt out of Brock. Lust and frustration tightened in Jack’s gut.

“Such a misbehaving little brat, but I know you’re hungry for it.” Jack hooked his fingers into Brock’s mouth. Without any prompting Brock sucked on his index finger, getting it nice and wet. Jack could hardly hold back the need to fuck Brock to incoherence. “There you go, good little slut.”

Jack pulled his fingers free from Brock’s drooling mouth. He laid a gentle kiss on Brock’s shoulder as his index finger found that needy little hole again. “Where’s the lube, Brock?” Jack circled his finger slowly before applying just a hint of pressure at the opening.

“Tell me where it is, and I’ll let you come on my cock. Won’t even make you beg.” He slid his finger in slowly, just inside, to the first knuckle. Brock went up onto his toes with a whimper. Jack rubbed his hard cock against Brock’s hip, knowing how much Brock loved that thick stalk of flesh.

Slowly, Jack swirled his finger inside until he was deep enough to find that spongy little spot. Brock bucked hard against the desk. His hands clenched into fists.

Jack couldn’t resist torturing him with it. He loved getting Brock needy and begging, milking his prostate until he was ready to explode. He was so damn pretty with his whole body flush and at Jack’s mercy.

“You want more?” Jack pulled Brock up by his throat, forcing his back to arch. “Say it.”

“Yes, _fuck,_ yes, I want more.” Brock’s voice was rough, but he got the words out clear.

“Tell me where the lube is.” Jack rubbed his finger over Brock’s prostate until he was gasping.

“Top right, taped to the bottom of the desk.” Brock wheezed. It felt like victory. Jack wrenched Brock’s neck to the side, taking his mouth in a savage kiss. Brock whimpered into his mouth as Jack pulled his finger free and found the small tube exactly where Brock said.

Jack made quick work of lubing up two fingers and forced them back inside. Brock groaned from the burn but didn’t protest. He kept his feet wide and his back arched low, presenting like Jack’s perfect whore. Jack scissored him open without mercy.

“Get ready, baby, take some nice, deep breaths and keep that tight hole of yours open for me.” Jack half warned, half commanded as he withdrew his fingers. He added more lube to Brock’s hole and his own cock, hissing at the pleasure of his own grip after neglecting himself for so long.

Brock was tight, so fucking tight it hurt. But the pain was so familiar, so good, neither could stop. Small, aborted thrusts backwards encouraged Jack deeper despite Brock’s whimpers of pain. Jack soothed him with long caresses down Brock’s sides and whispered dirty talk in his ear. It felt like forever for Jack to bottom out inside.

He doubled over, pressing his weight down on Brock as they both struggled to breathe. Brock’s ass clenched down tight, forcing a grunt out of Jack. He pulled back just the barest inch and thrust back in hard. He kept on with those deep, harsh thrusts, fucking Brock into the desk with no remorse for the bruises he would cause on those sharp hipbones Brock took such pride in.

“You enjoying this, you little whore?” Jack didn’t let up, didn’t give Brock a chance to sass back. “Want me to turn off those privacy screens and let everyone see you getting fucked like this, bent over the desk and gagging for it?”

Brock’s responding wail told Jack he was ready for more. Leaning back upright Jack planted his feet and pulled out until just the head remained inside. Brock whimpered at the loss, rolling his hips in placation.

“I should sit down in your chair and make you ride me, have you do some of the work to get your slutty ass off.” Jack grabbed Brock’s bound wrists and used them to pull Brock back onto his cock. It took a few strokes to find the right angle that made Brock moan.

“Next time you’re in here, yelling at some poor little SHIELD underling, you’re gonna remember me fucking you, right on this desk.” Jack put all the heat and filth he could think of to talk Brock right up to the edge. Jack was dangerously close to blowing his load but wanted to watch Brock explode into a puddle of incoherence first.

He wrapped one hand around Brock’s leaking cock, the other around his throat. Barely three strokes later, Brock erupted beneath Jack’s hand. The only thing keeping him from screaming out was Jack’s tight grip on this windpipe.

Jack pulled Brock's suddenly lax body close, gripping tight enough with both hands to make Brock shudder with overstimulation as Jack pumped out his own orgasm deep inside Brock's pliant body.

Bright lights dimmed behind Jack's eyelids. Lightheaded euphoria brought him down over top of Brock's collapsed form. They both reeked of sweat and sex, but needed the deep, gasping breaths of air to recover.

Jack's knees shook too much to hold him upright any longer. He dropped heavily into the large office chair behind them.

Brock remained still, but Jack could see the rise and fall of his slowing breath. Worries threatened to pull Jack from the pleasant post-orgasmic haze but he ignored all of it. Instead, he focused his attention on the glistening trails of come and lube dripping from Brock's hole.

He was tempted to lean forward and have a taste but knew he didn't have the energy for Brock's reaction to that, be it positive or negative.

Blaming the endorphins still running high in his system, Jack reached out and pulled Brock's limp body into his arms. Brock went without a fight. He curled up easily on Jack's lap, his head tucked under Jack's chin.

The room was quiet, the entire floor of the building was still. Jack ran a gentle hand up and down Brock's back.

"Let's go home." Jack kissed the words into Brock's sweaty hair. They were both a mess, due for a shower and sleep.

Brock's only response was a sleepy nod as he snuggled in closer to Jack's warmth.


End file.
